


One Way (Or Another)

by AFeastforFangirls



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-05-07 03:57:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14662812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AFeastforFangirls/pseuds/AFeastforFangirls
Summary: Just another CP Boyfriend anthology, with more of an emphasis on horror and proper characterization, and written with a more adult audience in mind. Includes: Jeff the Killer, Eyeless Jack, BEN Drowned, "Masky" & "Hoody" of Marble Hornets, and Ticci-Toby.Cross-posted from my other account on Quotev.





	1. Introduction/General Information

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n 1: Cross-posted from Quotev. I edited a little bit of the introduction because this version is going to be more explicit than the one on Quotev. The rating, set to M, will very likely go up as the story gets rolling. The one on Quotev I'm going to keep at a solid M. 
> 
> a/n 2: My edits look so much better on this site than on Quotev, and I get to post multiple on each chapter if I want, so that's another good reason to read this version!

Hello, and welcome to **One Way (Or Another)** , my CP Boyfriend anthology series! I've read a bunch of awesome CP scenarios and I couldn't help but be inspired to write my own. Despite the fact that the Creepypasta fandom seems to be fading away, I decided to go ahead with this story anyway. I've got a few pertinent things to mention before I post the first chapter, hence this introduction. Please take the time to read this intro all the way through so you'll understand how I'm writing this story and won't be confused later on. :)

* * *

**General Information**

**1.)** DISCLAIMER #1: None of these characters are mine. They belong to their respective creators. The title cover and any other images (unless I state otherwise) were created in Photoshop by me. Don't post them anywhere else, I worked hard on them. (If you're looking for images to edit, I found most of mine on unsplash!)

**2.)** DISCLAIMER #2: It should go without saying that I do **NOT** endorse actual relationships with real life serial killers. This story was written for entertainment purposes only.

**3.)** You, as the reader, are being represented as female. I may come back later and see if I can make the story more gender neutral, but for now the reader-insert is female. Other than that, I'm going to try and make everything about the reader-insert as inclusive as possible, but a lot of that is going to require imagination on your part, as these stories typically do.

**4.)** ALL characters are or have been aged up to **18 or over**. Also be aware that  YOU, as the reader, are being represented in this story as **18 or over** as well. The ages of the characters ***** and reader will usually be left purposely ambiguous (unless stated otherwise), but they will always be **18 or over**. This is  partly due to smut purposes (which I will get to momentarily), but because **1.)** I prefer to write older teen and adult characters (as I fall within that age range myself); and **2.)** a couple of these CPs are adults/older teens as stated by their creators (again, the teenage ones have been aged up).

***** Be aware that the characters "Masky/Tim" and "Hoodie/Brian" will be represented as **adults** in their **20s** , based on canon in the web series _Marble Hornets_.

**5.)** If you're not familiar with some of the CPs' backgrounds, I would advise that you read their stories because there may be chapters where I will be including information from their origin stories. *****

***** This will mainly pertain to "Masky" and "Hoodie" from Marble Hornets, so I consider this story a slight crossover. In addition to the original source, I will also be including certain aspects/traits from the voice-acting videos David Near did for these two characters, which I highly recommend. I will include links for these videos in the notes. :)

**6.)** This story will contain: **graphic violence** and **gore** , **explicit/suggestive/offensive language** , and **adult themes** that will possibly/occasionally include and/or refer to to **drug usage/alcohol usage/(CONSENSUAL) sensuality**. I will post more specific trigger warnings before the start of each chapter. Please, _please_ let me know if there's a trigger in a chapter that I left out in the warning and I will correct it.

**7.)** Now unlike Quotev, I can post more mature content here. I am willing to write some sensual scenes for the canonically adult characters (Masky/Hoodie, Toby) and maybe even Eyeless Jack since he doesn't have a canonical age. I am most likely going to avoid writing anything for Jeff and BEN since they're teenagers in canon (don't quote me on BEN though, I'm still a little confused on his age). I may change my mind later on, but I'm not promising anything.

**8.)** I'm not taking any requests, particularly for characters. I'm only including some of the more "classic" or well-known Creepypastas, and I'm only writing for six of them, including a mystery character as a treat for y'all. My main reason for this is that my scenarios are going to be fairly long (because I tend to go overboard, I literally can't help myself, lol) and I'm writing for six characters, which is more than enough to make everybody happy. Please, _please_ don't make requests for/message me for additional characters.

**HOWEVER** , there may come a time when I'll take requests/suggestions for scenarios if I run out of ideas. I will let y'all know when I'm in need of ideas, and if/when I choose to utilize a suggested scenario, I will credit you. For now, please don't send in any requests.

**9.)** This work was originally posted on Quotev under the same username. It is now posted here, and when I get the time, I will also post it on Wattpadd, and update it on each site when I complete a chapter. Those are the only sites where this story will be posted. **DO NOT** repost this story anywhere else. Seriously, I'm working hard on bringing this content out to y'all, so I ask that you guys respect that. However, if y'all would like to translate this story in a different language, I'm totally open to that! My only conditions are to ask me for permission and to post the translation  only on Archive of Our Own.

* * *

**Characters**

**1.** Jeff the Killer

**2.** Eyeless Jack *****

**3.** BEN Drowned

**4.** "Masky"/Tim ******

**5.** "Hoodie"/Brian ******

**6.** Ticci Toby

***** This version of Jack is based on my own headcanons instead of the popular [origin story](https://la-mishi-mish.deviantart.com/art/Origin-of-Eyeless-Jack-363990065) by La-Mishi-Mish.

**I am aware that these two are not Creepypasta, but I'm including them because I liked their characters, and, like many others, I honestly like the crossover between the MH universe and the general CP universe.

* * *

**Recommended Listening/Watching:**

[One Way Or Another by Until the Ribbon Breaks](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xOCDUQ2zuXE) \- the song that inspired and gave the story its name. :)  
  
[Hoodie Original Voice by David Near](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tNg_oJOhMBg) -  FYI: there's some mild language and some spooky/gruesome sounds in this video!  
  
[Masky Original Voice by David Near](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GLKjsQCdtuU&feature=youtu.be) \- FYI: there are violent sounds and explicit language in this video!

[Marble Hornets](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wmhfn3mgWUI&feature=youtu.be) \- linked to the very first video! This series was one of the very first (if not THE first) Slenderman series to appear on Youtube. It inspired a slew of other similar web series, such as TribeTwelve and EveryManHybrid, and remains one of the best indie horror series I've seen.

(Posting these links here since I can't post them in the notes.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: I'm going to post the first chapter right after I post the intro. I'm about to start writing the second chapter, and it will most likely be posted on Quotev first before I post it here. The first chapter is really long, so each chapter is likely to be just as long. So there will be longer waiting times for longer chapters, considering it took me about a month to rewrite and edit the first chapter. >.<


	2. First Encounter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n 1: This story was originally started around late September/early October of 2015, so it has a Halloween theme that I'm going to continue for the next few chapters. All of the first encounters in this chapter take place from early morning to late afternoon the day before Halloween.
> 
> a/n 2: I hope y'all are getting comfortable, because this is a loooooooong, meaty chapter. Not totally exciting yet, but there are definitely some spoopy chills! Enjoy! :)

* * *

**Trigger(s)/Warning(s):** Rude/naughty language, mentions of smoking  & alcohol/drinking, mentions of ableism concerning Tourette's syndrome, and mildly unsettling encounters with serial killers, lmao.

* * *

**First Encounter**

.

[ _as strangers_ ]

.

"You have _no_ idea who you're speaking to, do you?"

* * *

**JEFF THE KILLER**

**. . .**

 "Oh come on, are you _serious_?" [ **Best Friend's Name** ] whined when you waved the tickets for _Paranormal Activity: The Ghost Dimension_ in her face tauntingly.

You smirked. You both knew damn well [ **Best Friend's Name** ] hated horror movies. Vice versa, you both knew how much _you_ loved them. While the _Paranormal Activity_ franchise wasn't necessarily your favorite horror movie series, you had recently discovered, through some hilariously entertaining movie marathons, that it was the series [ **Best Friend's Name** ] hated the most, which, of course, guaranteed the most entertainment for you.

" _Dead_ serious," you said, placing an emphasis on the word "dead," and laughing out loud as [ **Best Friend's Name** ] blanched. This was turning out to be a great start to your [ **18th+ Age** ] birthday, and you knew it was only going to get better from here.

[ **Best Friend's Name** ] eyed the tickets as if they were going to leap out of your hands at any moment and attack her. "Couldn't we go see _Crimson Peak_ or something that isn't going to make me shit my pants?" she whined.

"I don't think _Crimson Peak_ is going to be any less scary than _Paranormal Activity_ ," you pointed out with a shit-eating grin. "And I know you only want to see it because Tom Hiddleston's in it."

[ **Best Friend's Name** ] pouted. "You know me so well," she said, slumping over the kitchen table dramatically. "I might as well resign myself to the horrible nightmares I'm going to have after this movie."

"Relax," you said, aiming a playful punch at her shoulder as you plopped down into the seat next to her. "I'll hold your hand if it makes you feel better," you taunted playfully. "Consider it payback for forcing me to go see that awful Bradley Cooper movie with you on _your_ birthday," you added smugly.

"It wasn't that bad!" [ **Best Friend's Name** ] retorted, smacking at your hand, ever defensive of her favorite actor.

"It _was_ that bad, and not even Bradley Cooper's handsome face could save it."

[ **Best Friend's Name** ] pouted again, her lower lip jutting out so adorably that you found yourself laughing again.

"I've got a proposition for you. Even though I _am_ the birthday girl," you declare pompously, "not only will I pay entirely for the movie snacks, I will also pay for _your_ food when we go out for dinner before the movie. No need to thank me," you say before [ **Best Friend's Name** ] can open her mouth, "I know I'm the greatest friend in the world."

[ **Best Friend's Name** ] attempted to pull a stern face, but failed miserably. You had her where you wanted her and she knew it. "Bribery? Really? I swear, [ **Your Name** ], you missed your calling as a politician. You know that I'm going with you no matter what movie we're seeing because it's your birthday and I'd be shit friend if I didn't. And I _don't_ need my hand held during the damn movie, thank you very much," she declared confidently.

"You wanna bet on that?" you asked, knowing that after the first jump scare she would most likely be holding one of your hands hostage in a death grip for the rest of the movie.

"Yeah, whoever has the biggest freak-out has to buy the winner dessert after the movie," she said smugly, sitting straight up in her chair.

"Oh my god, you're totally going to lose," you cackled, "You sure you don't just want to forfeit now while you still can? I mean, you _are_ the reigning queen of-"

[ **Best Friend's Name** ] must've gotten tired of the torment because she cut off your next words with a swift, painful punch to the boob. You yelped and scooted away several feet from her, the legs of your chair screeching as you dragged it across the linoleum tile. You were were afraid of few things, but her right hook was definitely one of them. It didn't help that she was wearing multiple stacked rings on almost every finger and you were going braless under your tank top.

"Hey! You said you were going to stop with the tit punching!" You griped, pulling down the collar of your shirt to see if [ **Best Friend's Name** ]'s rings had left any imprints in your skin.

"And _you_ said you were going to keep your ego in check," she retorted with a saccharine smile. She stood up from her chair and stretched. "What time does the movie start?"

"7:50," you replied, glancing at your phone. It was a quarter to six, and the diner you wanted to eat at before the movie was only a 10-minute drive from the house you shared with [ **Best Friend's Name** ] and your other roommate, [ **Friend 2** ], who was currently at work. You knew that if you wanted to eat at [ **Favorite Diner** ] and get good seats at the theater, you would have to leave fairly soon.

"We should probably get going then," [ **Best Friend's Name** ] said. She looked you over and frowned. Besides your tank top, you wearing comfortable flannel pants, fuzzy socks, and a purple robe. Where you lived, the weather always grew cold early, starting in the middle of October, and [ **Friend 2** ] disliked using the heat so much, you never saw any point in arguing with her.

You rolled your eyes as [ **Best Friend's Name** ] looked you up and down pointedly. She was so passive aggressive that it sometimes got a little annoying. "Alright, alright," you grumbled, getting to your feet. "Give me ten minutes and I'll be ready to go."

"And make sure to put on a bra unless you want your tits to freeze!" She called after you as you walked towards your bedroom.

She laughed when you flipped her off in response.

**. . .**

Ten minutes later, you and [ **Best Friend's Name** ] were driving towards [ **Favorite Diner** ]. Or rather, you were _attempting_ to, as you had the misfortune to stumble upon traffic. Although watching [ **Best Friend's Name** ] fly into one road rage tantrum after the other was proving to be extremely funny, with her constant screaming punctuated by slamming her fist down onto the horn.

"MOVE, MOTHERFUCKER! YOU'VE GOT THE RIGHT OF WAY!"

_HONK!_

"SON OF A _BITCH_! YOU ALMOST HIT ME, ASSHOLE! YOU CAN'T ROLL THROUGH A STOP SIGN LIKE THAT!"

_HONK, HONK, HONK!_

"THAT'S THE GREEN LIGHT! GOOOOOO!"

_HOOOOOOOOOONK!_

You probably should have been telling [ **Best Friend's Name** ] to calm her ass down, but you literally could not stop laughing for the past five minutes.

Eventually the traffic gradually broke up, people stopped driving like dickheads, and [ **Best Friend's Name** ] began to relax. Although her face was still flushed red from anger, her grip around the steering wheel loosened up.

"I need a fucking drink," she grumbled as you pulled up to another stoplight. You watched idly as some people walked across the intersection when the streetlight indicated it was their time to cross.

"Too bad [ **Theater Name** ] doesn't serve drinks or have those comfortable recliners yet," you commented. "This is what we get for moving to a small college town like [ **Town Name** ]."

The light turned green, and [ **Best Friend's Name** ] was opening her mouth to respond as she was pulling forward, when a tall figure suddenly darted out in front of the car.

You screamed and [ **Best Friend's Name** ] swore violently as she slammed on the brakes. Lucky for you both that the driver behind you hadn't been tailing you, or you would've been dealing with a fender bender. Also lucky for the asshole in front of you that [ **Best Friend's Name** ] hadn't slammed on the gas, otherwise the fucker would've been splattered all over the road.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ," you managed to breathe out, your heart pounding so fast and so hard it felt like it was trying to escape your body. You're shaking so hard you feel like _you're_ the one who had stepped out in front of the car.

"YOU MOTHERFUCKER!" [ **Best Friend's Name** ] screeched, worked up into a fury once more. "I HAD THE GREEN LIGHT!"

She looked as if she were about to leap out of the car and confront the man, but once you heard the sound of her seatbelt releasing, you seized her arm and kept her in an iron grip. You were extremely glad you had done so when you finally got a good look at the guy.

He was tall, very tall, and if you had to hazard a guess from where you were sitting, you would say that he was at _least_ six foot five. He a slight, stringy build, as if he didn't get the chance to eat very often, which wouldn't have surprised you, because the guy looked like he was homeless. He was wearing a dirty white hoodie, rumpled and stained, with a hole in one elbow and dark jeans. You could see patches of pale, scuffed skin in the holes at the knees of his jeans. His hands were jammed into the large pocket of his hoodie, and the way he was staring-right-at- _you_ -made you very nervous.

His eyes were very round and very wide, and a very vivid blue, the brightest shade you had ever seen. His eyes were easily the most unsettling thing about him, judging by the way the little hairs on the back of your neck stood up. Thick, too-long bangs of straggly black hair partitioned his eyes like torn curtains. His eyes were the only part of his face that you could see, with the lower half being covered by a thick scarf.

You swallowed, feeling yourself shrink beneath this unnerving, unblinking stare, and tightened your grip on [ **Best Friend's Name** ]'s arm. You did not want her running out and confronting that guy, not with her impulsive temper.

"What the fuck, asshole? Why are you still standing here? I'll-"

A loud honk from the impatient driver behind you made both of you jump. [ **Best Friend's Name** ] swore and flipped the bird at the offending car, and made to pull forward after buckling herself back in.

But the strange man was still standing in your way, staring at _you_.

"What the fuck is wrong with him?" [ **Best Friend's Name** ] barked as she inched forward. She slammed her fist down on the horn.

The man's eyes flicked away from you and settled on on [ **Best Friend's Name** ]. You did _not_ like the way they narrowed at her.

Finally, he turned and walked away, strolling casually across the intersection, heedless of the numerous cars blaring their horns at him.

"What a freak," [ **Best Friend's Name** ] snarled five minutes later after the incident, ignoring your wince as she took a turn a little too hard. "What is it with all the weirdos in this damn town?"

"It _is_ almost Halloween," you pointed out with a grin as you pulled into the parking lot of [ **Favorite Diner** ]. "Lots of crazies love to come out that time of year."

But even as you said the words, you were starting to relax, your fear of the strange man starting to dissipate. [ **Town Name** ] was small, but not so small that you'd run into the same person several times on the same day. How high were your chances of seeing him again?

* * *

**EYELESS JACK**

**. . .**

"Let's seeee... We need a little bit of everything for everybody," you said, scanning the list you and [ **Class Friend** ] had come up with together. Halloween was going to fall on a Sunday, which meant that you and some of your friends would have to hold the actual party on a Saturday, which was today.

Unfortunately, you being you, you had procrastinated on buying some of the essentials for the party. In your case, this meant booze and candy, and while there was plenty of booze to be found as you were a college student, candy was harder to come by.

Thankfully, some of your other friends had been thinking ahead of time and had already purchased enough candy. That just left the booze. This was going to be a little bit harder because you had a variety of people who were going to attend, and they all had a variety of tastes. Many of them liked straight, hard liquor, while there were others who preferred mixed, sweetened drinks. The casual drinkers among them cared for beer. You bit your lip, wondering where to start.

"We need beer obviously," you told [ **Class Friend** ], "but I don't know if we need all this," you gestured to the list. "Everybody likes different brands, but I'm not buying a bunch of six-packs. I say we pick two or three and they can live with that."

"Agreed," [ **Class Friend** ] said, eyeing the beer coolers thoughtfully. "Everybody else is going to be drinking something stronger, anyway."

There was a lot of variety, and you were glad that you both had decided that it would be much more worthwhile to make the 40-minute trip to the mega liquor store in [ **City Name** ] instead of settling for the smaller stores in your college town.

"I say we get a pack of Bud, a pack of Shiner, and a pack of Blue Moon," you declared. "If they don't like that, tough shit, they can just drink water or soda."

"Good idea. I'll be making all of the awesome drinks, so they have no reason to complain," [ **Class Friend** ] said, with an evil little laugh.

"Oh god," you groaned, coming to a sudden realization. "Please don't go overboard like you did last year. Everybody was drunk within the first two hours of the party."

[ **Class Friend** ] laughed as she reached into the coolers to pull out the selected drinks. "Are you _still_ mad about having to clean up after everybody?"

You grimaced at the memory of cleaning up the puke, sticky puddles of spilled drinks, and trash all alone while everybody else were still passed out all over the house. And you did it all with a hangover, too. That sucked ass.

"Yeaaaah... Could we _not_ have a repeat of that bullshit this year? We almost got the cops called on us." Not to mention that your relationship with your next-door neighbors had been completely and utterly destroyed when they discovered empty bottles and used condoms had been thrown over the fence into their yard the next morning.

[ **Class Friend** ] frowned as she plunked the six-packs down into your cart harder than necessary, the bottles clinking and rattling in their packages. "I told you those assholes weren't invited this year, remember?"

"I wouldn't put it past them to show up anyways," you muttered, remembering the gang of douchebags you had hung around with last year for some incomprehensible reason. It didn't help that you had dated the ringleader too, even if it was for only a few months. Your roommates had held you responsible for the destruction your ex's group had wrought upon the house, and you didn't blame them.

"[ **Your Name** ]," [ **Class Friend** ] seized you by the shoulders and turned you so that you were facing her. "Don't worry about it, seriously. This is why we're having the party at _my_ place. None of those assholes know where I live. And don't worry about [ **Ex-Partner** ]," she added when you opened your mouth. "I've got a friend who's an ex-bouncer. I asked him to be on the look-out tonight. Nobody's going to get in without his say-so."

You felt your body sag in relief and you released a breath you hadn't realized you had been holding in. You were super excited for the party, regardless of what had happened last year, because Halloween was your favorite holiday. The only thing that had been tainting your excitement was the fear that [ **Ex-Partner** ] would swing by and ruin the whole thing. Again.

"We should probably get going," [ **Class Friend** ] said, her disgruntled voice pulling you from your thoughts. "That old hag is giving us the hairy eyeball again, and I do mean that quite literally."

You glanced around, and indeed, saw an older female employee glaring at you both suspiciously from the whiskey aisle. Both hands were glued to her prominent hips, and her stance seemed to indicate that she was readying herself to confront the pair of you.

Sudden annoyance made you forget about your ex and you narrowed your eyes at the old woman who'd been following you around the store since you and [ **Class Friend** ] had arrived, even though you had both shown your driver's licenses to the employee at the entrance of the store as soon as you had walked in.

"Let's hurry up and get the rest of this shit," you muttered. "I'm sick of that bitch following us around like we're criminals."

[ **Class Friend** ] scowled at the employee before replying. "Let's grab some tequila. God knows I'm going to need it with this hag following us around."

**. . .**

Twenty minutes later, you and [ **Class Friend** ] left the liquor store with a cart full of alcohol. It was late in the afternoon, and you both had to prepare for the party, which was due to start in less than three hours. As you left the store, you glanced over your shoulder to see the crazy old lady still glaring at you from behind the automatic doors. _God_ , what was her problem?

Turning around to face her as you were still walking, you flipped her the bird and laughed as her face twisted into anger. Several other customers making their way to the parking shot you dirty looks, especially the ones with children accompanying them. That just made you laugh even harder. You yelped when you accidentally bumped into [ **Class Friend** ], just now realizing that you were walking backwards, causing her to accidentally let go of the cart.

You both swore as the cart drifted away from you and hurried after it. Unfortunately, the parking lot had been built on uneven ground and had a steep incline. It didn't take long for the cart to pick up speed. You and [ **Class Friend** ] panted and swore as you ran, narrowly avoiding other customers and cars backing out in your pursuit.

At the end of the parking lot, was the entrance/exit that led out onto the road. You almost wailed in despair as you watched your cart of booze drift closer and closer to the entrance. Rush hour traffic was building up, and you were terrified that you were soon going to be witness to an accident.

"FUCK, WE'RE NOT GOING TO CATCH UP TO IT!" You screamed, nearly tripping over your own feet as you tried to pick up more speed.

SHUT UP AND KEEP RUNNING, JACKASS!"

To your ever-growing horror, you watched as the cart swerved away from the entrance that led out onto the road and zipped toward a black-clad figure standing off to the side of liquor store sign posted by the parking lot entrance.

Involuntary manslaughter by cart full of booze. You squashed down the urge to laugh hysterically at the thought.

_Oh no, oh no, oh no_ \- was all you could think as the cart sped closer and closer towards its hapless victim. _We're going to be in_ so _much trouble, we're going to be fucking sued-_

But the person by the sign had apparently seen the cart coming, as they stepped out of its path right as the cart was on them and reached with both hands to grab it. The cart bumped into the curb with a jolt, and you and [ **Class Friend** ] were now close enough that you could hear the musical clinking of bottles rattling against each other in their plastic bags. You winced, hoping that nothing was broken, and then mentally scolded yourself for the thought. This guy could've been run over by the cart!

You and [ **Class Friend** ] stopped to catch your breath as soon you were able, bent over the knees, wheezing and gasping. You could feel sweat beading on your skin, despite the cool weather.

When you finally caught your breath, you noticed that the person who had caught your cart was still there, one gloved hand resting on the rear end of the cart. You nearly lost your breath again when you got a good look at him, until you remembered that it was Halloween. What else could possibly explain for the way he was dressed?

Right away you noticed that the person who narrowly avoided a collision by cart full of booze was male; you could tell by his build. He was thin and lean, with long arms and legs. He seemed kind of bony-looking, but even with the knobbly knees, you could see the pronounced muscle in his legs and shoulders. He wore all black clothing that covered every inch of him, from his hoodie to his cargo pants to his black boots. He looked suspiciously like a burglar, but that's not what unnerved you about his appearance. His hood was up, and you could see dark, springy curls spill out over where his forehead should have been. But you couldn't see his face because he was wearing a mask, a very unusual one.

Out of all the masks you had seen displayed in stores preparing for Halloween, this one actually frightened you. It wasn't something cheap or unoriginal like all of the Scream and devil masks you were seeing everywhere. It looked well made and was painted a deep blue color, with only wide, dark sockets for features. There wasn't a nose or a mouth, and you couldn't help but wonder how he could breathe. You couldn't see his eyes at all, so you assumed he must have used some sort of mesh so that while he could see out, others couldn't see in. That possible fact was disturbing enough on its own, but what was even stranger was the mysterious black liquid that bubbled from his eye sockets and dripped down his mask, occasionally gathering in thick globs. It didn't look like paint, as paint was too thin and didn't coagulate the way this substance did; the closest substance you could compare it to was tar.

[ **Class Friend** ] was just as speechless as you were at the stranger's odd appearance. And yet you found yourself walking towards him, thinking, _It's the day before Halloween, lots of people like to dress up the day before Halloween, there's nothing weird about it_ -

Somehow, you found yourself saying the opposite thing you meant to say. "Hey man, nice save back there. I'm glad you didn't get run over. I love really like your mask by the way!" You immediately cringed, and you heard [ **Class Friend** ] groan before she jumped in to rescue you.

She stepped up next to you, and you suddenly felt very glad that you weren't alone with this strange person.

"Sorry about my friend here, her social skills are severely lacking." You scowled, but she ignored you and continued on. "We're really, really sorry about this. Lost control of the cart here thanks to Miss Clumsy here."

You opened your mouth, indignant that [ **Class Friend** ] had the audacity to blame the whole thing on you (even if it _was_ your fault), but you were interrupted by the mask-clad man finally speaking up.

"Don't worry about it, no damage done," he said, the timbre of his voice low, quiet and smooth, despite being slightly muffled by his mask. You noticed there was a slight Hispanic accent marking his words.

"I imagine you'll probably want this back," he said, pushing the cart towards you. He sounded amused, which you were immensely grateful for.

"Yup! Can't have a Halloween party without the goods!" [ **Class Friend** ] said brightly, not-so subtly inching you away from the cart. You sighed and let her take over.

You heard the man release a small snort of laughter and you imagined him smiling under the mask when he said, "Happy Halloween. Try not to run over anymore people with carts. That'll ruin the mood."

[ **Class Friend** ] let out a loud, fake laugh that indicated _okay-i'm-ready-to-get-going-now_ , and said, "That's for damn sure! Happy Halloween, dude. Thanks again for catching this thing."

The stranger seemed to catch on that the conversation was over and he nodded at you before he turned and ambled away down the parking lot. You and [ **Class Friend** ] watched him for a moment before you turned and started heading towards the car. You grimaced as you made your way back up the incline before turning to [ **Class Friend** ].

"Now _that's_ a mask I'm going to remember."

* * *

  **BEN DROWNED**

**. . .**

"Nope. That movie sucks. Pick something else."

Your jaw dropped as you stared at [ **Best Friend** ] incredulously. "What do you mean, _nope_? What's wrong with it?"

You flipped the DVD over and scanned the synopsis on the back. It came off as your typical teenage slasher, but as a new release, it had done well in theaters and had actually received decent reviews, which was very rare for horror films. And it had a couple of your favorite actors starring in it. You honestly couldn't see the problem; in fact, you had been hoping to see this one.

"I don't like slashers," was [ **Best Friend** ]'s snotty response. "Mindless blood and gore isn't fun for anybody."

You felt your jaw clench in an enormous effort to hold back a nasty response. [ **Best Friend** ] had been putting down almost every movie you and your other friends had offered up for your Halloween movie marathon. The marathon wasn't even going to be held at her place but she acted like she was the one running the show, as always.

_Not this time_ , you thought.

"I'm renting this movie," you told [ **Best Friend** ] firmly. "And the others can rent what they like, just like you."

You started wondering if it was smart to start arguing with [ **Best Friend** ] in the middle of the video rental store, but at this point you didn't really care. The movie marathon had been a yearly tradition since you had all met at [ **College Name** ] two years ago. You had shared a dorm with [ **Best Friend** ] and had met [ **Friend 2** ] and [ **Friend 3** ] in your [ **Favorite College Course** ]. A year ago you had started renting an apartment with [ **Best Friend** ] and another classmate while the other two shared their own apartment. The first horror movie marathon had been held at your place, and you had let [ **Best Friend** ] take over because she was good at planning events.

On the other hand, it was one of her biggest flaws. [ **Best Friend** ] had a tendency to take over group projects and outings even when they didn't involve her. You found it extremely embarrassing and always tried to distance yourself when she started pulling her bullshit. It was about time you had started shutting her down.

[ **Best Friend** ] opens her mouth to respond and you tense up for a ridiculous argument in the middle of _goddamn_ [ **Video Store** ], when you are thankfully interrupted by [ **Friend 2** ] and [ **Friend 3** ].

[ **Friend 2** ] has an armful of movies that are threatening to spill to the floor and [ **Friend 3** ] is texting away furiously on her phone, eyes narrowed in concentrating on whatever she's typing. You stare at her curiously, wondering who she could be texting with such intensity, before [ **Friend 2** ]'s loud voice snatches your attention.

"Man, this [ **Video Store** ] has a good selection of movies!" She cheerily, as she tried to shuffle the DVDs into a better position in her arms. "I can't believe that the horror section is several aisles long! I asked one of the managers, and he said that the owner is a _total_ scary movie fiend, and-"

"They also have a big game section," [ **Friend 3** ] interrupted, emerging from her texting. "It's amazing. Not even Game Stop has such a good selection."

With that said, she turned all of her attention back on her phone, ignoring the strange looks the rest of you were giving her. Even [ **Friend 2** ], who had living with her since their dorm days, looked taken aback at her comment. While what [ **Friend 3** ] said was true, you didn't see how it was relevant in any way. You glanced around the store; while other stores like Blockbuster and Hollywood Video had long since given up their battle with Redbox and Netflix, [ **Video Store** ], by some miracle, continued hanging on. You didn't know about other places, but people in your [ **Town/City Name** ] seemed to gravitate towards it.

It was a fairly nice store, too; it was well-lit and tastefully decorated, with the aisles arranged in a convenient way that made it easy to maneuver around the store. [ **Friend 2** ] was also spot-on about the large selections. The store had a lot of indie and foreign movies and, like she said, the horror section was _huge_ , spanning one wall and six separate gondola shelves. In fact, now that you thought about it, it looked it was the largest genre in the whole store.

The only section of the store that was bigger was the gaming section, which took up the opposite side of the store. Games for all different systems lined the whole wall, with gondola shelves holding miscellaneous merchandise such as game guides, tech accessories, and controllers. Even from your end of the store, you could hear the tinny music and various sounds blaring from the demo stands. You weren't much of a gamer yourself; you had an account on Steam and preferred playing atmospheric games on your computer. Forget Mario and the Legend of Zelda, you liked a game with a good story, a game that made you _feel_ , a game you had yet to stumble upon.

"Ooooookay," [ **Best Friend** ] said, sending you pointed glance at you that seemed to indicate what a freak [ **Friend 3** ] was, "I see that _you_ found plenty of movies to choose from. Which ones are you getting?" Her eyes flicked to [ **Friend 2** ]'s horde, and [ **Friend 2** ] beamed.

"I'm getting all of them! They all look good!"

"Good idea," you declared before [ **Best Friend** ] could protest. "That's plenty to choose from, in case we wind up with a couple of duds."

You shot a warning glare at [ **Best Friend** ], daring her to disagree.

She let out a long-suffering sigh and rolled her eyes, a rare sign that you had learned to spot and interpret as defeat. You were secretly grateful for this because you honestly weren't sure if you'd be able to go another round with her.

"I suppose you're going to grab all of the movies I shot down," she said dryly.

Just to be a spiteful little shit, you grinned and said, "Nope! I'm fine with what I have." You indicated the DVD you held, catching [ **Friend 2** ]'s attention.

" _Oooh_ , what's that?"

You held the movie close up to her face so she could read the summary (as you wouldn't be able to hand it to her without her dropping everything else she held) and smirked at [ **Best Friend** ] when [ **Friend 2** ] declared that you had impeccable taste.

"Whatever. I'm not paying for any of your rentals," she said before she flounced off down the aisle towards the foreign flicks.

You and [ **Friend 2** ] snickered. It wasn't every day that you managed to get under [ **Best Friend** ]'s skin. You adored her most of the time, but it served her right for trying to take control of everything. You looked over at [ **Friend 3** ] and felt your brow furrow when you saw that she was still texting. Her cheeks were flushed pink, and you suddenly understood.

_I bet she's texting a guy_ , you thought with a grin. _Good for her._ You were a little surprised to find out that you actually meant it. She was so shy and quiet, you often forgot about her, and you weren't as close to her as you were to [ **Friend 2** ]. Somebody clearly felt differently and you were glad for it.

"We should get going, I'm kinda hungry," you said. You grinned as [Friend 2] struggled with the movies cradled in her arms. "Need some help with that?"

She looked like she was about to say no, but at that moment, several DVDs slid right out of her arms onto the floor.

"I'll take that as a 'yes.'"

**. . .**

"Oh, for the love of-[ **Friend 3** ], who the _hell_ are you texting?"

You raised an eyebrow when the young woman in question jumped at [ **Best Friend** ]'s sharp voice, almost losing her grip on her phone. [ **Friend 3** ] had continued her texting off and on since you had left the video store, and you couldn't help but starting to feel a little annoyed. Despite [ **Best Friend** ]'s blunt question, you were wondering the same thing.

"Keep it down, [ **Best Friend** ]," You said, noticing the annoyed looks other diners were shooting your table. "We're in the middle of a restaurant."

Restaurant was too strong a word; you were eating at McDonald's. You all couldn't agree on anything else, as [ **Best Friend** ] decided to act her usual controlling self again, so you had all thrown up your hands and let her decide where you would eat. Fast-forward to now, sitting at sticky, noisy McDonald's.

"She's been texting him all day," [ **Friend 2** ] said, chortling as she took a big bite out of her burger, promptly choking. The noises she made had heads turning around again. You smacked her hard several times on the back and the noises gradually died down.

[ **Best Friend** ]'s eyes widened at this realization. She smirked. "'Him,' huh? Might we happen to know this guy?"

[ **Friend 3** ] shook her head, eyes still glued her phone, which she clutched tightly in both hands as if it were her lifeline. "No. I met him online."

[ **Friend 2** ], who was sipping on her soda, suddenly spewed a mouthful of Dr. Pepper all over the table and even, much to your disgruntlement and disgust, a little bit on your meal tray. Her eyes looked like they were going to pop out of her head. "What!? You told me you met him in one of your classes. Don't you know how dangerous it is to chat with strangers online? I can't believe you gave him your phone number!"

You let out an exasperated sigh as [ **Friend 2** ]'s shrill, indignant voice caught the attention of an employee, who promptly made his way over to your table. By the way he was dressed, a button-up shirt and tie, you deduced that he was most likely the manager.

"Ladies, if I hear one more outburst from your table, I'm going to have to ask you to leave. Do you understand?"

He frowned at the embarrassed, mumbled "yeses" he received, but seemed satisfied enough and disappeared back into the kitchen, most likely to harass his employees.

"Thanks for that, [ **Friend 2** ]!" [ **Friend 3** ] snapped, shoving her chair back.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"To the bathroom, if that's okay with you," [ **Friend 3** ] said irritably. She stood up and stormed towards the restrooms.

"Awww, shit-" [ **Friend 2** ] hastily pushed back her chair and followed [ **Friend 3** ], leaving you and [ **Best Friend** ] sitting in an awkward silence until she decided to step outside for a smoke.

"What the hell is even going on?" you grumbled, nibbling at your fries, annoyed with all the sudden drama seemingly caused by [ **Friend 3** ]'s mysterious suitor. You just wanted a horror movie marathon with your friends, dammit.

Your eyes flickered to [ **Friend 3** ]'s phone, lying by her meal tray across from you. She must've forgotten it in her anger because she had been attached to the damn thing all day. Before you knew what you were doing, you snatched up [ **Friend 3** ]'s phone and glanced at the screen. There was a text message under the name of BEN that had been delivered five minutes ago that she hadn't responded to.

**its not true of course, its just some stupid urban legend thats been passed around for years since the dude died. thought you would find it interesting tho. :) theres more about the whole ghost thing in the link.**

Attached to the end of the text was some sort of link.

Now your curiosity was peaked. What urban legend was he talking about? [ **Friend 3** ] had never indicated any interest in that sort of thing. You opened up her phone, surprised that she didn't have some sort of security lock on it and scrolled up through her messages with BEN. They appeared to have only started texting this morning, but she had said had met him online, so they had probably already been chatting before she gave him her number.

You hesitated for a moment. You shouldn't be going through her texts! She's your friend. What a violation of privacy. And yet... there was something about this that compelled you to keep going.

Scanning through her texts, nothing really caught your eye until you got closer to the most recent text, as most of them consisted of small talk and mild flirting. You stopped at the last five texts before the most recent one.

**you like spooky shit? movies? books? >;)**

_Not really. My friend [ **Your Name** ] is into that more than me. i like true crime stuff. Documentaries and podcasts. that probably sounds real dorky, lol. _

**oooooh girl, your in luck. ive got the spookiest story for you. and its completely true. i betcha theres a documentary or podcast out there about it, but thats nothing compared to what i know.**

You narrowed your eyes at the third text suspiciously. Maybe [ **Friend 2** ] was onto something. It was one thing to be interested in true crime and criminal psychology like [ **Friend 3** ] was, but this text sent off red flags in your mind. This guy was talking like those weirdos who ran exploitative websites, who posted gruesome crime scene photos stolen or leaked from official reports, and harassed and even blamed the victims for what happened to them. Biting down your anger, you moved on to the next text.

_ooooh, that sounds interesting! :0 Do you have a link? a general summary??? i'm doing a paper for one of my classes about true crimes and i cant decide on what to pick! Maybe I'll use you the one you're thinking of. :)_

**youll love this one. its an oldie, but its a goodie. not the first result youll find unless your reallly looking for it, but not totally obscure either. its about a guy who was drowned by his own dad. really dark, sad shit. buuuuuut... rumor has it that the poor fucker hasn't moved on. #ghostboy #spoopyshit**

Your nose wrinkled in disgust. Was this guy _really_ using hashtags in a text? Really? What a douchebag.

_ugh, like he's a ghost??? Poor guy! :(_

After [ **Friend 3** ]'s last reply to him was the text he had sent with the link. You were tempted to reply with something snarky, but that would be crossing the line and you didn't want [ **Friend 3** ] to see that you had been reading her text messages. You clicked on the link instead.

You immediately wished you hadn't.

The link had loaded relatively quickly, opening a website where the first thing you see is a gritty crime scene picture of a body floating in murky lake water. There's an article beneath the picture; but you don't even bother to read because your attention is seized by the giant headline positioned above the picture, written in a ridiculous, gruesome font meant to frighten:

You stifled the scream shooting its way up your throat and quickly exit the website before throwing down the phone with a clatter. Your stomach is churning from the picture of that body, swollen and decaying, and you're struggling not to throw up. What kind of sick _fuck_ sent a link like that to someone they barely even knew!? What the hell kind of website did [ **Friend 3** ] meet this freak on?

You jumped when you heard your phone ping with an incoming text message, and when you pulled it out of your coat pocket you almost made you faint from fear. It was from an unknown number, but you _knew_ exactly who had sent it.

**dont you know its not nice to read other ppls texts? :)**

"-know I overreacted, but I just want you to be safe."

"I get that, and I appreciate it, I really do, I just-"

Your head snapped up and you could've cried in relief when you saw [ **Friend 2** ] and [ **Friend 3** ] walking back towards you. You wondered if you should warn [ **Friend 3** ] about the link that asshole Ben sent her. You had no idea how she would react, especially without any sort of warning.

But that would mean having to admit to reading her whole conversation with him. That would make her upset, and that would mean most likely canceling the movie marathon, and that was a tradition you didn't want to break. Yes, it was selfish, but she wouldn't know, and you wouldn't do again, so who would it hurt?

[ **Friend 2** ] broke off from their conversation when she saw you sitting alone and frowned. "Where's [ **Best Friend** ]?"

"She's outside having a smoke or two," you said, standing up so fast from your seat that you banged your knee and rattled the table. Forcing a grin on your face, you said, "Are y'all done arguing? We have a horror movie marathon to start."

You forced yourself to ignore the question blaring brightly like a neon sign in your head: _how the hell did that guy get your number?_

* * *

**"MASKY"/TIM**

**. . .**

You couldn't believe you had agreed to this. Your eyes darted around nervously as you took in your surroundings. Wandering the concrete apron of the [ **Haunted House Name** ] Attraction, were numerous people dressed up as monsters, demented job professions, and various other assortments of terrifying creatures. They drifted around, already lost in their characters and occasionally terrorizing the people in line. The haunted house you had reluctantly agreed to go to was so popular that it attracted people from all over [ **Your State** ] and even people from different countries.

But right now you couldn't help but wish you _were_ in another country. You hated haunted attractions enough as it is, but the one your sadistic friends had dragged you to took the cake. [ **Haunted House Name** ] Attraction was considered an "extreme" haunted house (it often drew comparisons to McKamey Manor in California), and when you looked up the reasons why, it had frightened you so much that you had nightmares for a week. According to one particularly frightening review you had read, [ **Haunted House Name** ] Attraction was one of those places that included terrifying terms such as "paper contract," "safety words," "required waivers," and other such words that nearly had you peeing your pants at the very thought. One anonymous blogger even claimed that he couldn't reveal certain elements of the attraction due to a gag order.

Just remembering all of that made you break out in a cold sweat. You still couldn't believe that you had passed the required health waiver to even be considered for an invite. You were a nervous wreck seeing horror movies at the theater, you didn't even know how you were going to react at a place where the scare actors were allowed to get physical with you. And the hell did you shell out so much cash for a ticket straight to hell itself? You should have listened to your mother and saved that money for something useful and _not_ terrifying. 

You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn't even hear one of the attraction actors sneaking up behind you. You felt heard something snapping and popping behind you, as if someone was cracking their joints, and then a large, gloved hand fell down on your shoulder, gripping it tightly, followed by a malicious giggle rattling in your ear. You screamed so loud and so long that several people ahead of you, and even some of the other actors, turned around to see what was going on.

In desperation, you ripped yourself out the actor's grip and stumbled into [ **Friend 1** ], the mastermind of the whole trip, nearly falling over. He caught you just in time. "Whoa, [ **Your Name** ], relax! It's just a guy in a costume. See?"

Tentatively, you turned around, but what you saw didn't make you feel any better. The actor was dressed as some sort of slasher character, but not one that you recognized. He was wearing jeans and a tan-colored hoodie with dark brown stripes on the sleeves. His blue hood was up, and he wore weird, orange-tinted goggles and some sort of striped bandanna or fabric mouth-guard over the lower half of his face. He was clutching a fake hatchet in both hands and both, along with his clothing, were spattered with fake blood.

What was odd about his little act was the way he was twitching. He tilted his head from side to side as he stared at you, occasionally cracking his neck. He stomped or kicked his feet periodically, and swayed from side to side, as if he was incapable of standing still. His arms twitched, and you flinched when you saw one of his hatchets swing forward, even though it was fake.

"See? It's just a guy in a costume," [ **Friend 1** ] said reassuringly. "Totally fake."

As if taking it as a challenge to invalidate [ **Friend 1** ]'s words, the actor suddenly lurched towards you, swaying and lumbering towards you in a clumsy dance of a predator stalking his prey. You were frozen, so frightened by the way he was moving towards you that you didn't have any time to react when he stopped right in front of you to bend down and yank down his bandanna with a fierce snarl, revealing a horrible gash on the left side of his mouth.

You found yourself screaming again at the disgusting sight of raw, reddened gums and the meat of his mouth, leaning backwards in an attempt to escape the teeth snapping at you. This time you did fall, slipping out of [ **Friend 1** ]'s arms and tripping over your feet before swiftly meeting the concrete ground.

"Alright, that's _enough_!" You heard [ **Friend 1** ] snap angrily as you struggled to catch your breath, the collision with the ground having knocked all the wind out of you.

"What the hell's going on?" That would be [ **Friend 2** ]'s worried voice. "Did [ **Your Name** ] faint?"

Both of them were bending over you, soon joined by the scare actor, who looked sheepish at the results of his actions. There was no sign of his strange twitching, as it had apparently been a part of the act, and you were starting to feel a little embarrassed by your reaction, especially when you felt your heart skip a beat when the actor offered you a hand up.

"Shit, girl," he said, pulling you to your feet, speaking in a tone of awe. "I think that's the best reaction I've ever gotten with this costume. The stupid hatchets usually ruin the whole thing, seeing as they're so damn fake and all."

"Hey asshole, she could've hit her head when she fell over," [ **Friend 2** ] snapped. "Save your bullshit for someone who cares."

"Leave him alone, it's not his fault," you interrupted, ignoring [ **Friend 2** ]'s indignant look before turning to the actor. You felt your breath quicken at the sight of the gash in his cheek. It looked so damn real. You never did handle gore well. "I'm just really fucking clumsy. The hatchets looked real enough to me. The twitching thing was impressive. I've never seen anybody else do that for a scare."

You were relieved when you saw the actor's face light up at the compliment, hoping that your attempt at casual conversation would make the whole embarrassing incident fade away. 

Now grinning, the man pushed back his hood and goggles, revealing messy black hair and green eyes sparkling with mirth. He looked to be around your age, maybe a little bit older. "Well shit, little lady, don't tell me you didn't come here without knowing who Toby Rogers is?"

Now you were confused. "Who's Toby Rogers?" Was this guy dressed up as some slasher from some obscure horror flick?

"Toby Rogers is a real-life serial killer," [ **Friend 1** ] jumped in with all the sudden eagerness of a true crime fiend. "A few years ago, he murdered his dad with a pair of hatchets, and went on a really _nasty_ murder spree after that. Killed a bunch of kids from his high school in Colorado. Don't you remember that? He made national news."

"Wait, he was a _teenager_ when he started murdering people?" You asked, your jaw dropping in surprise.

"Yup, he killed his dad when he was seventeen," [ **Friend 1** ] said in a casual manner as if you were discussing the weather. "But here's the weird thing about the guy," [ **Friend 1** ] suddenly dropped his voice ominously, which did nothing to assuage your frayed nerves. "He had a bunch of mental disorders, but weird ones. One of them was Tourette Syndrome, which is why _he_ ," he nodded at the scare actor, "was doing all that creepy-ass twitching when he was scaring the crap out you. That's why they call this particular killer Ticci-Toby. That's what his classmates used to call him because he couldn't stop twitching."

The actor preened at the praise, and you weren't sure whether to smile or roll your eyes.

"But Toby also had this really strange and rare disorder called C.I.P.A..."

[ **Friend 1** ] paused for dramatic effect.

"Which _meeeeeeans_?" [ **Friend 2** ] drawled out impatiently. [ **Friend 1** ] shot her nasty look. You knew he hated being interrupted when he was working up one his dramatic ramblings.

"Which means he's numb to pain," the scare actor with the dubious honor of filling this role said with a grin. "That dude can't feel jack shit. He can't feel pain, he can't tell whether it's too cold or too hot. Fuck, he can't even tell when he needs to take a piss!" The actor laughed at this last mildly disgusting fact, and this time, you really did roll your eyes, along with [ **Friend 2** ].

You suddenly found your attention snagged by an unsettling detail. You felt chills creep up your spine "Wait, why are you guys talking about him in the _present_ tense?"

"Because he's still running around," the scare actor said, smirking. "They never caught him. He left a bunch of DNA evidence at his home where they found his dad's body and even at the school where he butchered his bullies. But they've never been able to catch up with him. It's like..." He dropped his voice and started speaking softly and quietly. "It's like... _he just disappeared._ "

You felt ice began to settle in the pit of your stomach at this disturbing fact, but it soon melted from your sudden indignation. "Wait, are other people dressed up as actual serial killers here? That's so-"

You were about to say _so fucking exploitative, what about the family members and victims who were irrevocably traumatized by these sort of events_ until [Friend 1] gave you subtle pinch to shut up, and you scowled at him.

"Of course," the Ticci-Toby actor said without batting an eye, not seeming to notice your outrage, "We've got Jeff the Killer, we've got the cannibal dude, but no one's sure if he's even real. It's like spotting Bigfoot with him, and we've even got that chick with the watch in her eye. What's her name again-"

"HEY, TOBY!" You all, sans "Toby," jumped at a booming voice carrying further down the front of the line. It was coming from an actor dressed in a torn white hoodie stained with fake blood and a face done up in exaggerated burn scars and gashes stretching on either side of his mouth.  You cringed at the sight as he drew closer. What was up with the damn _mouth wounds_? He was brandishing what looked like a convincingly real kitchen knife. "THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, MAN? BACK TO POSITION, WE'RE OPENING IN 20 MINUTES!"

With that said-er, _bellowed_ -the actor stomped back towards the front of the line, lunging at a gaggle of unsuspecting high school students along the way, shrieking, "GO TO SLEEP!" The ensuing screams could be heard all the way down to where you and your friends stood.

"Asshole," You heard "Toby" mutter under his breath. "Well _boils_ and _ghouls_ ," he tipped one of his hatchets at you as if it were a top hat, "looks like I gotta get back to work."

He quickly rearranged his hood and bandanna back on, until you could only see his eyes. He let his gaze drift from both of your friends onto you. You could see the outline of his lips lift up into a smile as he winked at you before he pulled his goggles back down and dove straight back into character, cracking his neck in a way that made you cringe. "S-s-see y-you in-inside, fu-fu-fu- _fuckers_."

And with that said, he ambled off, twitching and swaying as he did so, swinging and twirling his fake hatchets in his hands. Another chorus of shrieks sounded over when he sneaked up behind a couple who were completely oblivious to everything and everyone but each other.

"Oooooh, he _likes_ you," [ **Friend 2** ] said with a smirk. "You should have gotten his number."

[ **Friend 1** ] snorted. "She doesn't even know his actual name!"

You groaned as they started bickering playfully, feeling a headache starting to form. "Guys? _Guys_! I'm gonna step out of the line for a minute."

They both looked at you with concern. "Are you still freaked out from that guy?" [ **Friend 1** ] asked gently.

"I'm fine, I just need a cigarette to calm my nerves."

[ **Friend 2** ] made a grossed-out face, her nose wrinkling. "That's hella disgusting, [ **Your Name**.]"

"Yeah, I thought you quit," [ **Friend 2** ] commented with a small frown.

"I did! I mean, I'm still trying anyways," you said lamely.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked, his frown deepening.

"I'm fine! I just need a minute," you said defensively.

"Do you want one of us to go with you?" [ **Friend 2** ] asked.

"No, I just want to be by myself for a few minutes. I'll hang by the car," you said, and started walking away before they could say anything.

You needed more than a few minutes, that was for sure.

**. . .**

Leaning against [ **Friend 2** ]'s car, you were far away enough that the actors wouldn't venture your way, but still close enough to see the line. Screams drifted your way, along with "Toby's" mad cackling. You grimaced at the small cluster of buildings that were housing all of the attractions. They were built and thematically arranged according to what three environments [ **Haunted House Name** ] Attraction chose to feature, which they rotated every year. This year, you and your friends were "lucky" enough to get tickets to their most popular themes: Prison, Sanatorium, and, reportedly the most terrifying, Mansion.

You dug through your purse, searching for your much-needed cigarettes. Your friends had been trying to get you to quit and you had been doing well, but when you got stressed out enough, they were the only things that would help calm you. You had tried chewing gum, but not even going through a whole pack of spearmint-flavored Extra gum would help, not where a single cigarette would succeed.

You cursed when you pulled out the carton box and realized that it was empty; you had smoked your last cigarette right before you and your friends had left the house.

"Fucking dammit," you snarled, shoving the box back into your purse, suppressing the urge to fling the bag across the parking lot.

"Somebody's cranky," a snide voice said right next to you, making you jump. You whirled around to see some random guy leaning against [ **Friend 2** ]'s car like he owned it. You were so distracted that you hadn't even heard him walk up right up to you.

When you found your voice, you snapped, "Well, no shit, I'm cranky! I'm all out of cigarettes, and I need one to deal with this goddamn haunted house! Also, get off the damn car, it's not your property."

Instead of snarling right back at you, the stranger smiled sardonically. "I understand the feeling," he said dryly, standing up straight. He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a pack of Marlboros. "You can have one on me, free of charge."

You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously. You didn't like the way he spoke so sarcastically, but he wasn't being outright rude, and a cigarette was a cigarette.

"Thanks," you muttered tersely, fishing one out. You were about to reach in your purse for your lighter when he swiftly reached into his other pocket, switching the Marlboros for a lighter, and handed it to you.

After you lit your cigarette, you took a deep drag, savoring the warmth curling inside your chest. You released a couple of smoke rings, and the guy looked impressed. "Nice. I've never been able to do more than two." Still, some nasty undertone lingered in his words, but you shrugged it off.

"It takes a lot of practice."

You took another drag as you tried to observe him as surreptitiously as you could. The man looked to be in his mid- to late 20s, and he was rather stocky, not very tall, but he had broad shoulders with thick arms and large hands. He looked like he was built for manual labor, but he was thick around the waist and you could see a bit of a gut beneath his jacket. He had thick, black hair that flopped over his forehead, with strangely appealing matching sideburns and equally dark eyes. Like everybody else, he was dressed warmly for the weather in jeans, close-toed shoes and a yellow leather jacket.

You both stood in companionable silence for a moment, smoking and gazing over at the long line of people winding around the attraction, with the occasional shriek of fear and the puzzling mantra of "Go to sleep!" carrying over to you.

"Soooo..." the stranger drawled, blowing smoke through his nostrils like a dragon, speaking in that same sarcastic, bored tone that was starting to grate on your nerves, "you don't like haunted houses?" He looked you straight in the face, his lip curling up in a small smile and you could've sworn you spotted a glint of malice in his eyes.

"Not haunted houses where you have to sign fucking health waivers and the actors are free to drag you off into another room," you grumbled, exhaling a long, curling cloud of smoke through your lips.

The man's lips twisted up into a full-on smirk. "What's life without a little harmless fear in it?"

You tried not to sneer at him as you replied, "Depends on your view of 'harmless fear.' What kind of shady place has their employees dress up as _actual_ serial killers?" This time you couldn't keep the disdain out of your voice.

"I take it you had an experience with one of our star killers, then?" There was no mistaking the glee in his voice, and his smile broadened even more around the cigarette dangling from his lips. You were about to respond with a nasty comment faux-questioning if the establishment hired _actual_ murderers, when your mind suddenly snapped back towards his comment.

"Wait a damn minute-do you _work_ here?" you asked, once again feeling embarrassed at having unwittingly insulting one of the workers before the damn attraction was even open. You looked him up and down. He didn't look like he was dressed for it.

"Sure do, sunshine," he said brightly, blowing two smoke rings towards your face, his grin widening at your scowl. "It's my favorite seasonal job."

"Oh yeah, I bet you'd make a great Christmas elf," you said sarcastically.

"Tell me, sunshine," he said, taking a step towards you, ignoring your remark. You instinctively took a small step back. You did not like the way he was looking at you. There was something vicious in his gaze that he either wasn't hiding very well or was choosing not to. "Which one of our _killers_ did you run into, hmm? Jeff the Killer? He's a classic. Good old Eyeless Jack? That freaky mask always gets the ladies screaming."

"Ticci-Toby," you said, your eyes glued to the cigarette in his hand. You had the wildest feeling that if you pissed this guy off, he would put it out on your skin. It was the weirdest feeling you had ever had. You're not sure where it came from. "The guy with the hatchets."

The dark-haired man recoiled as if _you_ had put your cigarette out on him. His eyes narrowed, all signs of amusement leaving his face. A dark scowl took over in its place, and you had to resist the urge to dash into [ **Friend 2** ]'s car and lock the doors. Too bad you didn't have the keys. To your horror, your hand was shaking, ashes from the stub of your cigarette fluttering down all over your coat.

"I'm gonna let you in on a little secret, sunshine," the rude actor spat, exhaling one last cloud of smoke before flicking his cigarette to the asphalt and grinding it under his foot. "They're a lot more scarier things in this world than some little boy running around with hatchets."

You stared at him incredulously, unnerved by his cryptic comment. This real-life "little boy" had gone on a murdering spree, including his own _father_ , and this guy dismissed it? You thought about it for a moment, and came to a much more logical conclusion. He was probably talking about the actor who was dressed up as Toby, that's all. It had to be. They probably had some ongoing feud, and it had to have been a bad one, because you could tell this guy did _not_ like "Toby," that was for sure.

You sure as fuck did not want to get into any more of that, so you flipped your cigarette away, and crushed it under your heel hastily. "Thanks for this," you forced yourself to be polite to the actor, having the growing sense that he was more volatile than he let on. "It really helped."

_And now I need another one_ , you thought in despair.

"Sure, no problem. I should probably get going." But he wasn't looking at you anymore; something had caught his attention, as his stare was directed over your shoulder.

You followed his gaze, turning your body slightly. [ **Haunted House Name** ] Attraction and its parking lot were constructed close to [ **Park Name** ], a heavily forested piece of land that contained numerous walking trails that used to be popular with cyclists and joggers. But its popularity had waned in the last few years, as it was rumored to have been investigated by the police numerous times for murders and missing persons cases that were never solved. It obviously added to the allure of the already terrifying haunted house attraction, but becoming more aware of park now than you had been before only made it worse.

Swallowing, you started to walk away back towards the line, not bothering to say goodbye to the weird actor. His attention was clearly elsewhere now ( _thank god_ ) and you wanted to get back to where it was safe, with your friends.

"Hey!"

You stopped in your tracks, body stiffening. What now? You turned around. The actor had turned his attention back onto you, a strange smile making its way back on his face again.

"I'll be seeing you inside, sunshine."

You couldn't help shooting back, "You'll have to catch me first."

Instantly, you wanted to take the words back, but it was too late, they were already flung out there, a challenge lingering between you and the stranger who had so kindly given you a cigarette.

The smirk on his face transformed to a genuine smile, one of immeasurable happiness. This was worse than any of the others. You immediately turned on your heel and started power-walking away as fast you could without actually running. You expected to hear him jeer at you or even start chasing you, but when you impulsively turned your head over your shoulder, you saw that he was facing the woods again. From the smoke wafting over his shoulder, you could tell that he had started smoking again.

* * *

**"HOODIE"/BRIAN**

. . .

"I still say this is a stupid idea," you mumbled under your breath as you watched your mother flip through various camping ground pamphlets. The weather was getting colder, and it was the day before Halloween. Who in their right mind went camping before Halloween? Your family, that's who.

"Aw, c'mon [ **Your Name** ], don't be such a grump," your younger brother said cheerily, poking you playfully in the arm. "What did you have going on, anyway?"

You sighed internally. [ **Brother Name** ] was right. Unlike most of your friends, you currently didn't have any classes this semester, and did not have to worry about the various assignments and projects that would inevitably lead up to finals in December. Nobody was available to do anything. If your friends weren't busy with homework, they were going to be working. Nobody was able to throw a Halloween party or even go to one this year. 

That left you with your family. You loved them dearly, but camping was the furthest thing on your mind. You and your mother had made it a mother-daughter tradition to watch a bunch of horror movies every Halloween for the last several years, but she clearly wanted to do something different this year.

"What does dad think?" you asked your mother, who was muttering something to herself. "Mom? _Mom_!"

Her head jerked up at the sound of your voice. "Oh!" Her face lit up like a Christmas tree. "He's all for it, of course! With you being so busy with work and classes and [ **Brother Name** ] having so many extracurricular activities, it's been a long time since we've done something extended as a family."

Her reasoning was sound, but... _camping_? In October?

You decided to be the spoilsport. "It's going to be cold if we go camping," you pointed out. "It's been getting colder earlier this year."

That did not seem to perturb your mother. "It's already been decided, we're heading out to [ **Camping Ground** ] in a couple of hours."

Your jaw dropped. "Uh, mom, don't you think you could've given us a warning ahead of time? We haven't even started packing!" You paused in your rant. "Do we even have the equipment for a camping trip?"

"Your father's gone out to Academy to pick up a few things," she said briskly, piling the pamphlets into a neat stack. "You and I are going out to pick up some thermal underwear and [ **Brother Name** ] needs a new pair of boots. Everything else from last year should still fit you."

You stared at her, wondering if your mother had finally lost her damn mind. "Mom," you started tentatively, "this all seems _real_ sudden. Is there something going on that I don't know about?"

[ **Brother Name** ] poked you again, harder this time, and you smacked his hand away. "Who cares?" he crowed. "We're going camping! Why can't you be excited?"

You stared at him almost wistfully. You remembered when you were sixteen and hardly thought about anyone's feelings or problems but your own. You sometimes wished you could go back to those days. But now that you were an adult, it's like a switch had been flipped and that switch was stuck were it was, no longer able to be flipped back.

"It's not that I'm excited..." Okay, that was a lie. You fumbled for the words to finish your sentence. "I just don't understand why she's making such an impulsive decision."

[ **Brother Name** ] said something, but you weren't listening, watching your mother wander off into the kitchen with a frown. The name of the camping grounds she had mentioned sounded awfully _familiar_... Where did you remember that name from?

You eyes almost popped out of your head when you remembered where you had heard the name. It had only been mentioned on the local new multiple times in the last couple of years. You leaped out of your seat and bounded into the kitchen after your mother. What the hell _was_ she thinking, putting all of your lives in danger like this!?

You had to resist the urge to yell at her as you watched her dig through the fridge and pantry, setting out ingredients to make a late breakfast. You forced your voice to stay calm as you started speaking.

"Mom? Have you been watching the news lately?"

"Of course I have," she distractedly. "Why do you ask?"

"Well... then you must know that [ **Camping Ground** ] is located in [ **Park Name** ], right?" You paused, waiting for her to put the pieces together. She would react naturally, as any well-fearing mother would, with a gasp, her face turning white, before pulling you into a hug and thanking you for your incredible foresight and canceling the whole trip altogether.

That is _not_ what happened.

"Yes, I know that," your mother said, frowning at you. "What's your point, [ **Your Name** ]?"

You stared at her. Was this real life right now? Were your parents pulling a fast one over you? There was _no way_ your mother could not know about what had been happening in [ **Park Name** ]. Fuck it. Maybe she had to hear somebody other than the damn news person say it out loud until she was convinced.

"Mom, multiple people have gone missing in [ **Park Name** ] for the last _two years_ and the cops even suspect there may have been murders committed there. It's not safe to camp there. There's no way [ **Camping Ground** ] could possibly be open, not with that kind of bad publicity."

" _Possible_ murders," your mother corrected as she bent down to retrieve a pot from a lower cabinet. "They've scoured that area multiple times and they never found any evidence of foul play."

"What about the people that have gone missing there?" you retorted. "Doesn't that worry you?"

"[ **Your Name** ], many of those missing people were runaway kids and college students probably playing hooky," she said dismissively as she banged the pot down on the stove. "The police found quite a few of them. Don't you think you're overreacting a little bit?"

"No offense, mom, but I feel like you're _severely_ under-reacting," you snapped, unable to contain your temper any longer. "Just because the police haven't actually _found_ anything or anyone in that park, doesn't mean they don't have a reason for searching it. The cops don't search the same place over and over again just for shits and giggles!"

"You watch your mouth!" Your mother said sharply, whirling around to finally face you. You were taken aback when you saw her expression twist into a furious scowl. "How _dare_ you imply that I would put this family in danger!" Her eyes started welling up with tears. "I just want us to do something that the whole family will enjoy. Is that so wrong?"

Christ, this was _not_ what you were going for. "Mom, I just want to understand what's going through your mind," you said as gently as you could in this strange moment. "This whole thing just seems so sudden that I'm a little concerned."

Your mother took a deep breath, brushing away the tears lingering in the corners of her eyes. "I just want us to spend time as family, that's all. You're working so much since you don't have classes right now, and your brother's so busy with his school activities that I hardly see either of you. It's like I have guests in my home instead of my own children with the way the time is flying."

Your face softened and you immediately felt bad. You were currently working in retail since your next classes wouldn't be available until the spring semester in January. Your hours were starting to pick up as the store was preparing for the Christmas season. It was true that you hadn't had very many days off until you had asked for Halloween and the first week of November to spend time with your family, as you had offered to pick up extra shifts to make a little more money. You hadn't even realized how that would've made your mother feel.

"I-I'm sorry, mom," you said, swiftly pulling her into a hug, which she promptly returned. "Work's been getting kinda crazy lately, and I haven't been able to think of anything else." You pulled back to look her in the eyes. "The whole thing with the [ **Park Name** ] kinda freaks me out a little. I've heard strange things about the [ **Haunted House Name** ] Attraction nearby, too, and I don't like that [ **Camping Ground** ] is so close to both places."

God, you hoped she wouldn't get upset again. You were just trying to relay your concerns in a calm and logical manner. She should understand that. She _needs_ to understand that.

"I understand what you're getting at," your mother said kindly. "Your father's going to bring his gun and your tent is going to be right next to ours. We chose a spot that's not too far in the camping grounds, if that makes you feel any better."

_No, it doesn't_ , you thought gloomily. _She still wants to go through with it, huh? That's just awesome_.

You forced a smile on your face. "Guess I should go start packing then. We'll go to REI after breakfast, then?"

"Yes," your mother said, her attention now on the eggs she was cooking. "Pack quickly, because I want to be in and out of the store as soon as possible."

You sighed, glancing at the clock set into the stove. 10 in the morning. You hoped it was only going to be a two-night trip. You did _not_ want to spend want any more time than necessary camping in the woods where a possible deranged murderer lurked.

**. . .**

" _Five days_!?" you said, much louder than you actually meant to, feeling your cheeks grow warm as other customers turned to stare. Your mother reached over and pinched you on the arm. "Hey! It was just a question!" Your brother snickered, and you shot him a dirty look.

"Why not five days? You have the whole week off, don't you?" Your mother asked as she looked over some long-sleeved thermal shirts.

"Yeah, but I didn't think we were going to spend almost all of at [ **Camping Ground** ] in the cold."

"Must you focus on the negative?" she sighed, looking exasperated.

_The weather isn't even the negative part of the whole damn thing_ , you thought bitterly.

"Yeah, [ **Your Name** ], don't be so _negative_ ," [ **Brother Name** ] taunted, attempting to goad you into an argument. You ignored him easily, a long-suffering veteran of many brotherly taunts that served only to get you into trouble.

"Mom, the weather's going to get _really_ cold later this week," you said, attempting to be the voice of reason. "Is it really such a good idea to camp out for five days?"

Before your mother could respond, your brother said, "What are you so worried about? We've been camping before, and it's not cold enough to snow yet."

_Yes, but we've never been camping in a place where murders have allegedly taken place,_ you thought sullenly. _Am I living in some alternate reality!?_

"[ **Brother Name** ], go look for those boots you need," your mom ordered. He immediately trotted off, whistling a cheery little tune. "[ **Your Name** ], go grab some bear spray. Do you have your ID on you?"

"Yeah, I got my driver's license. Anything else I should grab?" You gave up. This trip was happening no matter what you said. You could only hope that there were only bears out in [ **Park Name** ].

"Grab a first-aid kit. I can't find our old one," your mother said, continuing to dig through racks of thermal underwear. "Is there a specific color you want?" she asked, holding up an undershirt. "I think two sets of shirts and leggings will do."

"[ **Favorite Color** ] is fine," you said with a casual shrug. "I'll meet you back here in a little bit."

You headed towards the opposite end of the store, where most of the camping gear where separated from the clothing. You spent a few minutes picking out a first-aid kit, deciding on one that was slightly more expensive, but had extra items in it. Better safe than sorry.

You made your way over towards the counter where they kept many of the smaller camping accessories so they wouldn't be stolen. As you approached, you could hear a customer arguing with the employee behind the counter. From his raised voice and the harassed look on the employee's face, you had a feeling that this argument had been going on for awhile.

"I've told you several times, and I will tell you again, _sir_ , that we can't sell _any_ of our knives without seeing a valid ID or driver's license in accordance with state law." The employee sounded exasperated, and you wondered how long he had been arguing with this ass. "We have to ask for a valid ID for anybody who looks underage."

"Do I _look_ underage to you?" You heard the man snarl. His voice was deep and rusty, as if he hadn't spoken in a long time.

"It doesn't matter what I _think_ , sir. I must see an ID before I can sell you any of our knives."

"Could I least _look_ at one? Is that _okay_ with you?"

"No, sir, I can't-"

You heard a solid thump, making you jump, and you realized the man had slammed his fist down on the on the glass top of the counter.

"Don't you fucking tell me I need a goddamn ID, don't you dare say that again-"

" _Hey asshole_ ," you broke in before you could think better of it, "some of us actually have places to be, so if you're not gonna do what the nice clerk asks you to, why don't you step aside and let me grab my goddamn bear-spray so I can bypass your bullshit and get out of here."

The man whirled around at your comment, and you immediately regretted saying anything. He was of average height and build, but he had the look of guy you did not want to fuck with. He had short brown hair and light hazel-green eyes, which were glittering with anger and a calculating cruelty that made you take an involuntary step back. There were dark circles under his eyes, indicating that he hadn't slept for quite some time, which most likely accounted for his foul temperament. He was dressed casually in a faded yellow hoodie and blue jeans. Mud spattered his boots and the hems of his pants. You could see that something was shoved in the large pocket of his hoodie.

Overall, he looked completely unstable and you internally cursed yourself for picking a fight with a total stranger in the middle of REI. His eyes narrowed to slits as they sighted you and you flinched at the sheer hostility in his hazel gaze.

"Fuck off!" he spat before he turned around to start berating the poor employee again.

You glanced around, but you didn't see another associate in your vicinity. If this guy didn't seem so off-kilter, you would just wait and or attempt to get assistance from someone else, but it didn't feel right to leave the poor associate with this asshole. You didn't know if he would get violent, but you didn't want that on your conscience.

You slipped off, ignoring the employee's pleading stare, wandering down the aisles, searching desperately for another employee. Where the _hell_ were the rest of the associates? Were they short-staffed or something?

When you wandered into the Cycling aisle, you came across something better: a manager. Even better, he was tall and looked strong enough to deal with the lunatic in the yellow hoodie. You waited until he was finished speaking with the customer he was occupied with before you approached him.

"Excuse me, sir?"

He smiled at you as you walked towards you, and you felt your cheeks grow warm. He was relatively young and good-looking, blond-haired and blue-eyed. "Hello, miss, how may I assist you today?"

"There's this really angry guy yelling at one your associates over in the camping accessories section," you told him, watching his expression harden. "He's getting really belligerent and I'm not sure what he'll do." 

"Well, we can't have that now, can we? Thanks for letting me know, miss," the manager said before striding off. You followed him, trying not to be too obvious about it.

Instead of going straight back up to the counter, you hovered behind a  small display of binoculars and compasses, peering around the edge of the gondola as you watched the manager approach the crazy guy in the yellow hoodie. By this point, the psycho was practically yelling himself hoarse and the employee looked close to tears. It made you wonder how nobody else could have possibly heard the man's irate bellowing.

You watched as the manager first tried to reason with the yellow-clad man, repeating what the employee had already told him, and when that didn't work, he flatly informed him that he was to vacate the store unless he wanted the police to get involved.

You smirked as you watched the manager start to guide the seething man away from the counter, but your smile dropped instantly when his head snapped towards you and his eyes caught yours in a hateful glare. You felt ice creep down your spine and you didn't even stay to watch the manager lead him out of the store; instead you hastily started making your way back towards your mother.

Fuck the bear spray.

* * *

**Ticci-Toby**

**. . .**

"A seance?" You blinked, staring at your dorm mate with a bewildered expression. " _That's_ what we're going to do for Halloween?"

[ **Dorm Mate** ] grinned. "Why not? We can invite some of the other girls from down the hall." Her voice turned sly. "We can even invite some of the guys as well." She punctuated the end of her sentence with a wink.

You felt your face flush. You were shy enough as it was while your dorm mate was a total social butterfly. You had made a few girl friends since you transferred to [ **University Name** ] from your community college, but you didn't know any of the guys [ **Dorm Mate** ] hung out with very well. And to be honest, you didn't have much desire to get to know them. They were very loud and too affectionate for your liking.

"Where are we going to do it?" You asked curiously, pushing back your dread at having to hang out with some of [ **Dorm Mate** ]'s more vivacious friends.

"I was thinking we would do it tonight in the common room," she said with a smirk. "We can sneak in after hours."

" _Tonight_? Why not on Halloween?"

[ **Dorm Mate** ] heaved out a dramatic sigh. "Because Halloween falls on a Sunday this year-which is _tomorrow_ , by the way- and I'm going to use that to binge on candy and finish my homework."

"Makes sense. But how are we going to sneak into the commons?" you asked as you stretched out luxuriously on your small twin bed. "Not only are the doors going to be locked, but there's sure to be cameras too. We'll get caught."

"Not likely," [ **Dorm Mate** ] said smirking, fishing a key attached to a silver ring out of her pocket. "I have a friend who works in campus security. He managed to get me the key to the commons area. He just wanted a little... _something_ in return."

"Ugh." You made a face. "Please spare me the details."

She laughed. "Relax, he just wanted some of my famous pot brownies! That's all, I swear."

You weren't surprised. [ **Dorm Mate** ] was well-known around campus for making the best batch of edibles [ **University Name** ] had seen in the past ten years. You wouldn't be surprised if they wound replacing the currency someday in terms of worth, they were _that_ good. You didn't know how she managed to keep up with the demand, as she had to go over to someone's house in order to make them.

"Okay, but that doesn't explain how we're going to avoid the cameras," you pointed out, folding an ankle over the other.

She just smirked at you again and you let out an exasperated sigh. "Let me guess," you said sarcastically, "another friend in security?"

"A friend who watches the cameras," she replied.

"How many brownies are you paying this one?" You said, laughing now. [ **Dorm Mate** ]'s antics never failed to amuse you.

"I'm making him a whole pan," she said, "and it'll be my last one for awhile, too. Finals will be here before you know it." Her brow furrowed as if she just thought of something. "Speaking of, didn't you have a project you were going to work on today?"

You shot up like a bullet. "Shit, I completely _forgot_ about that!" You moaned. [ **Dorm Mate** ] watched in amusement as you dashed about the small room for your things, sweeping required papers and books into your backpack.

"You might want to change," she said, gaze sweeping over your lazily-dressed form.

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing? Half the student body wears sweatpants and tank tops during the week," you said, quickly engaging in a fierce battle with your backpack as you attempted to force your laptop inside.

[ **Dorm Mate** ] cocked a brow. "I'm pretty sure most of them wear a bra to class," she snickered. "The girls, anyway."

"Fuck that noise," you snorted, briefly abandoning your backpack to throw on your favorite hoodie. "I've declared weekends to be bra-free. Effective immediately. The damn library's fucking freezing anyways. GOTCHA, FUCKER!" You had managed to wrestle your laptop into your bag. You zipped it up as far as it could go, which was most of the way, heaved it over your shoulder, buckling slightly under the weight of it, and made for the door, snatching up your student ID and your lanyard that held all of your keys.

"Uh, [ **Your Name** ]? Don't you think you're forgetting something?" [ **Dorm Mate** ] sounded like she was trying her hardest not to laugh.

"Nope, I'm pretty sure I got everything," you said cheerfully. As you started walking down the hallway, you could hear her laughing hysterically through the door. You weren't sure why.

It wasn't until you were halfway down to the campus library that you realized that you had forgotten to change out of your extremely warm and comfortable shark slippers.

**. . .**

You were ready to tear your hair out. You hated research papers with a passion, and this one was the hardest one yet. You had gotten an early start on it, which meant you had already collected the notes and various resources to use as citations, but you kept getting stuck just writing the damn thing. You kept hitting a wall and you had no idea how to climb over it.

"Arrrgh!" You didn't _mean_ to make any noise, but one of the assistant librarians shot you a nasty look from a nearby reference aisle, and gestured for you to be quiet. You smiled weakly and slumped down in your chair, staring dully at your laptop, surrounded by open books and notes scattered across the table.

Your butt was getting sore and your legs had fallen asleep. You eyes hurt from reading and staring at your laptop screen. You were hungry, and starting to feel petulant for having to do homework on a _Saturday_ , the day before Halloween. You just wanted to lay about and smoke a joint with [ **Dorm Mate** ]; hell, you were starting to look forward to the seance. What was life without a little adventure? The thought of sneaking into the common area in the dead of night while everybody else was sleeping was sounding more appealing the more you thought about it. You hoped somebody would bring a Ouija board. Maybe you would mention it to [ **Dorm Mate** ]. She'd know where to find one.

You checked the time on your laptop. You had only been working for an hour and a half. You wanted to get up and walk around, but you wanted to work on your paper a little bit more before you called it quits for the day. You quickly came to a decision. You would walk around the library for a few minutes to stretch your legs, then you would come back and work on your paper for at least another hour. Yes, that sounded like a good plan to you.

You glanced over at the table next you. You knew the girl sitting there; she was in your [ **Favorite Class** ]; you had paired up with her a couple of times for in-class assignments. Because her table was so close to yours, you were able to lean over in your seat and tap her on the shoulder. "Hey, [ **Classmate** ], can you do me a small favor?" You made sure to whisper because the librarians were very unforgiving and you had already used up strike one.

She looked up from her textbook and smiled at you. "Sure, depends on how small the favor is," she replied jokingly.

You smiled back. "Do you mind watching my stuff for a few minutes? I just need to stretch my legs. I won't be more than ten minutes, if even that."

"Yeah, I can do that for you." Her eyes darted to your feet when you pulled yourself up from your chair with a small, pleasurable groan. "Uh, [ **Your Name** ], you are aware that you're wearing _slippers_ in the library, right?"

"Yeah," you said, scratching the back of your head sheepishly. "I didn't realize I still had them on until I was almost here."

She stifled a giggle behind her fist before she was able to say, "Well, I think they're cute."

You grinned. "Thanks, [ **Classmate**.] I'll be back in a few."

You strode away from the cluster of tables and walked around the computer banks, ignoring some of the strange looks you got. You just chalked it up to a lack of appreciation for your totally awesome and unique sense of style. You took a turn down the reference aisle, shaking your legs a little bit in an attempt to shake off the numbness.

You pulled your cell out of the back pocket of your sweatpants to see if you had any texts; you were paired up with a partner in another one of your classes and you had been waiting on a response of when you would be able to meet up, so you did not see the other person in your path until you bumped into him, hard.

"Whoa!" You almost fell over into the bookshelf, but two strong hands steadied you by your shoulders. Your cell had slipped out of your hands and landed between the stranger's feet with a muffled thump thanks to the carpet. You could feel his hands twitching on your shoulders.

"S-s-shit, you okay, pr-pretty l-lady?" You looked up at the man you had bumped into. He wasn't very tall, but he was broad-shouldered and muscular, which explained why it had hurt when you bumped into him. You winced in pain when you felt his fingers jerk and twist into your shoulder, and he immediately released you and took a step back as if he had been burned.

He was dressed for the weather in a dark-gray jacket with the sleeves rolled up to reveal the long white sleeves underneath, and dark jeans. You could see the tails of his shirt sticking out from beneath his jacket. He wore finger-less black gloves on his hands, with strange white wrappings covering his fingers. Atop his messy, chestnut-brown hair, underneath the hood of his jacket, he wore a white baseball cap with a black brim and a yellow rectangular design with an X in the middle. A pair of goggles were dangling around his neck over a crumpled length of striped fabric.

You couldn't help but notice how good-looking he was, despite his sickly-pale skin and other strange characteristics. He had wide, pale eyes set into a classically handsome face, but the color wasn't natural; it looked as if he had cataracts growing over the irises. He had a decent goatee going for him, with a sad little mustache above his lips as a contrast. What caught your eye was the large band-aid he wore, which covered up a good portion of the left side of his mouth.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going," you said, trying not to squirm under his ghostly stare. It was a little like staring a snake in the eyes.

"Th-th-at's pr-pr-pretty obVIous," he said snarkily, voice dropping on the last word, and there was a little popping sound as he cracked his neck, his head twisting to one side gruesomely.

You weren't even annoyed by his comment. You had just noticed that he wasn't standing completely still. He was slowly swaying from side to side as little twitches and jolts shook his body, accompanied by a cracking sound here and there as his joints popped. His fingers flexed as if he itched to wrap them around something (or _someone_ , your mind whispered), and one of his knees popped in a way that made you grimace.

"I-i-i have T-t-t-Tourette's," he said as casually as one would describe the weather, having noticed your stare. "C-c-can't h-hELp it." You blinked. Huh. That would make sense. You wondered how many times he had to explain his condition to people. That had to get really old pretty quick.

"M-M-MOTHERFUCK!" You jumped at his sudden bellow, and looked around nervously, hoping he hadn't caught the attention of any of the librarians. When you saw nobody raining hell and fury down upon your heads, you whirled around to face him.

" _Shhh! Dude, you're gonna get us thrown out of the library_!" You hissed.

He smirked. "S-sorry, sweet-sweetheart, swearing is also a p-p-p-art of it. I cAN't help t-t-that either." He did not sound or look sorry in the least.

You let out a little huff as you eyed him suspiciously. Here was a guy you hadn't seen around campus before. Your university was pretty big, but you were sure a unique guy like him would stand out. [ **Dorm Mate** ] would get a kick out of him.

"Hey," his deep voice drew you out of your thoughts. He had a serious frown on his face, as if he were suddenly remembering something. "I'm loo-looking f-f-for some-something or someONE, but I ca-ca-can't fu-fu- _fucking_ remember which one it is. C-c-c-could you he-help me?"

You stared at him, taken aback by this sudden odd request of his, and were trying to think of some coherent reply other than, " _what the fuck, dude_?" when one of his long legs suddenly shot out in a backwards kick, like a mule or a horse, startling you and sending your cell sliding across the carpet behind him. Your eyes almost popped out of your head. Damn, you were so wrapped up with this guy you hadn't even noticed you had dropped your phone!

"Fu-fucking GODdammit," he swore, none too quietly, ignoring your wince. In two, long strides, he was bent over and picking up your phone. His thumb twitched, and the screen lit up, revealing your lockscreen background: a selfie of you and [ **Dorm Mate** ].

His arrogant expression changed instantly. It darkened, becoming more sinister the longer he drank in the image. His mouth widened into a teeth-baring smile, like a predator, and his pale eyes were lit up with deranged glee. What was even stranger was how that horrible expression just accentuated his good looks; for some inexplicable reason, he made you think of serial murderers such as Ted Bundy or Richard Ramirez. It was _unbelievably_ creepy.

Even worse, he was shaking and twitching harder than he was before, the cracks and pops of his bones even more prominent than they were before.

What the _fuck_ was up with this freak?

"Give me my phone back," you said flatly, no longer feeling polite. "I can't help you find what you're looking for."

The strange man's smile just broadened. He stepped towards you until your bodies were almost touching. Now you were starting to become frightened. He hadn't seemed so tall before when you first ran into him...

You almost screamed when he took your wrist and gently forced your palm out. You couldn't pull away even if you wanted to, you felt like you were hypnotized by the way his fingers traced your wrist as his other hand slowly slid your phone back into your hand. With that hand, he made your fingers fold over your phone like a cage.

"I just _remembered_ who I was looking for," he said, much more quietly than he had before, but with much more menace. He spoke without any hint of a stutter, that Cheshire smile still in place. "Tell [ **Dorm Mate** ] that I've been thinking about her lately. It's been so long since I've seen her last. Years, actually."

His voice dropped to an ominous whisper, and he bent down towards you until your noses were almost touching. "Tell her that _**Roger**_ says ' _hi._ '"

He kept your eyes locked together until you tried to pull away, a whimper of fear strangled in your throat. His grip around your hand tightened and his awful, ghost eyes sparkled with pleasure at the pain that crossed your face.

Then, he abruptly dropped your hand and stepped around you, as if to start walking away. But he didn't get very far as he paused, his stare drifting down to your feet. You didn't dare move, just kept staring straight ahead at the empty space he had occupied, not noticing that he had turned around until you felt his warm breath on the back of your neck as he whispered, with his chin settling on your shoulder and hands gripping your arms...

" _I like your shark slippers_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some fun facts about this chapter:
> 
> 1\. Paranormal Activity: The Ghost Dimension and Crimson Peak were either out/coming out in theaters when I started writing this story back in 2015, so that's why they're still mentioned, lmao. I loved them both.
> 
> 2\. Like I mentioned in my intro, I'm writing Eyeless Jack based on my own headcanons. There's just something about Hispanic!Jack I just couldn't resist, lol.
> 
> 3\. Consider this whole chapter with BEN taking place after his actual story. I didn't forget the Zelda game, I just wanted to do something a little different where he haunts other aspects of technology.
> 
> 4\. I based the haunted house attraction in Masky's scenario on the various different Slender games that I've watched Markiplier play. I also couldn't resist having the actors dress up as the Creepypasta murderers. I ESPECIALLY couldn't resist mentioning some of Toby's background, it seemed fitting that he would weasel his way into Tim's chapter. xD
> 
> 5\. Hoodie and Masky's scenarios both take place in the same location, seeing as they're both a part of MH, I didn't want to separate them in this universe either. Also, don't quote me about the knife laws mentioned in Hoodie's scenario. Laws vary from state to state, so I probably kind of fucked it up in this story, lmao. (Although it goes to show that I should actually bother to do some research before I post my stories, lol.)
> 
> 6\. This version of Ticci-Toby is the 25 year-old version in his creator's timeline picture, hence his outfit and physical appearance. I've never seen anyone write (as I far as I've noticed anyway) this older version of him in any CP scenario story, so I decided to do the honors, lol.

**Author's Note:**

> a/n 1: I honestly would recommend reading this version because not only do I have more leeway to let this story earn its rating, lmao, but I can upload more edits and they look SO much better on this site than on Quotev.


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